


The Rush

by starfleetdicks



Series: Merlin Season Five Drabbles [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, Immortal Merlin, Implied Relationships, M/M, Reincarnation, Series Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:43:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfleetdicks/pseuds/starfleetdicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They practicing on the pitch when it happens, when Arthur stumbles upon his destiny. </p>
<p>A season five episode thirteen short story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rush

Percival catches the ball despite a valiant effort by Lancelot to make a goal. It's the kick that does it. Percival, misjudging or just by coincidence of the wind, sends the ball flying past the other practice goal where it rolls to rest near the school's lake.

"Grab another and keep on. I'll get this one," Arthur orders and goes after it. Arthur's cleats squelched in the grass and mud. They canceled practice yesterday because of the rain. The pitch is dry but these lower grounds are still flooded and Arthur tries to pick his path carefully.

He finds the ball near the edge of the lake and leans over to pick it up, glancing out at the island in its center and the large monument on it. It’s always foggy, no matter the time of year.

There's a shift in the air, when Arthur swears he hears something other than birds and the soothing call of the tide going in and the tide going out.

There's no one around him though. He can make out the pitch still when he turns, spots Elyan shoving Percival and hears Gwaine's loud and carefree laugh.

He moves forward and the mud seems to suck his cleat in, trapping his foot. Arthur curses, jerks his foot left and right and tries to yank it free.

It takes a moment and then Arthur feels something give and pulls with all his might.

The ground gives too suddenly, too easily, his other foot slips, he loses track of the ball when it spins out of his hands, and his arms flail out to brace him.

Icy water engulfs him and the air bursts out of him.

Pins and needles prick at his skin and throat.

His eyes burn and he can't seem to find up.

He kicks desperately, fumbles for the air somewhere above or is it below?

There should be light but everything feels so dark and he kicks and kicks.

It's a lifetime of struggling before the fight goes out of him. The water is too heavy, too cold, and it feels right to let go. Limp, he sinks farther in some direction and the sound of a voice is far off.

His heart beat thrums in his head and his hand hurts from something gripping too tight and suddenly he's clear of the water and air comes rushing back to him in strained gulps.

His chest hits the embankment and he retches freezing water before arms wrap around his torso and haul him free of the lake. Shivers wrack him and the sunlight is blinding.

Where is he? He rubs at his eyes and looks for the horses. Weren't they near? No, no, they had run away when Morgana had attacked.

"Arthur!"

Who's voice is that?

Arthur turns blearily eyes at his savior and he looks devastatingly familiar. But it's wrong, all wrong. "What's that on your head? Where's your neckerchief gone?"

The boy above him falters, eyes shining. "Arthur..."

Arthur shifts, trying to free himself of the boy's arms and itches at the clothes clinging to him. He looks over himself, the almost silk tunic and one shoe with points giving him pause. "Where is my armor?"

"Arthur!" Elyan voice slams into his senses and he inhales sharply because that's wrong, no, Elyan's been dead for months. Yet the man runs toward Arthur in similar clothes.

Gwaine is jogging behind him and Arthur's heart clenches painfully but he can't place why. He can't remember. He wasn't told. He met him, he thinks, in the water but why does that make sense?

"You alright?" Elyan asks as he kneels beside Arthur as well.

Arthur grips the boy's arm, the one who saved him, where it still holds him and takes in stuttering breaths.

No one is in armor. Leon is so young, too young where he should be older. Gwaine's got some painted design on his bared forearm. Percival's shirt has sleeves.

He's so cold but it's not the chill of water clinging to his skin. It feels like death hangs onto him though he was saved in time from the lake.

"Merlin?" He calls because everything's wrong. Everything's different. There's a high, imposing building in the distance though it is not of normal stone.

The boy at his side jumps and helps haul Arthur to his feet.

"You know Merlin, Arthur?" Gwaine laughs from somewhere behind Elyan while Arthur stumbles, trying to find his other shoe. "Since when have you two been friends!"

The hands at his shoulder tighten and Arthur grits his teeth when he inhales sharply and it burns.

"Of course I know Merlin! Why wouldn'--" It rushes back with the tide, making him skitter to the side at the shock of it all. Elyan catches him, he thinks, and Merlin hovers silently at his side.

He grabs for him, turns to stare at him.

"You..." You were my manservant, he wants to say, but his mind supplies something else. "My sister is fond of you. I've had to be friendly before, isn't that right?"

Morgana is alive, yes. Morgana and he share a rocky at best but more or less loving sibling relationship. Ygraine. Arthur chokes and multiple sets of hands pat him as he spits up more water. And his eyes water; he blames the force of his friends.

His mother is alive.

He is not a Prince or King. They are not in Camelot. Arthur does not know a Camelot. His knights are only friends but they let him captain the footie team. Leon has only called him sire or your highness in jest.

"Oi, can you shoulder him back? Percy'd carry him but Arthur would pitch a fit."

"Yea, of course, Gwaine."

It all sounds wrong. No, you don't say yea to a knight, Merlin. You say yes, my lord. To hell that you've known Gwaine for... How long was it?

"Alright, no sense ogling him. Let's clean up the pitch and find the nurse. Merlin's got him under control. Probably in a bit of shock still." Lancelot declares from somewhere as Merlin pushes Arthur along up the hill. Oh Lancelot, god, it feels good to hear his voice. You were dead, Arthur wants to breathe, but they’re gone, all of them so fast.

Gwaine’s run up to the building and the Elyan, Percival, Lance, and Leon are already to the pitch when Arthur feels like he can breathe again.

"I... I died."

Merlin tenses under the arm that's been thrown over his shoulder and Arthur tries to peer sideways at him but his head throbs and he focuses on breathing normally.

"Arthur..."

"Don't. Don't lie to me, please. I remember. God, I remember." And he cries because he knows and the boys have all rushed off and Merlin's leading him through the university's halls to the nurse and his sniffles are smothered in this wide place and because Merlin won’t judge him.

Merlin mumbles and Arthur only notices then that he's a bit teary too and they must look stupid, clasping each other and stumbling down the hall because Arthur's lungs burn and they can't quite see out of teary eyes.

"Yes, you did die, okay? I waited lifetimes for you and when I'd finally found you, you go throw yourself into the same damned lake!"

"I fell, you idiot!"

"And before that, no, before that you wouldn't look at me! You didn't see!"

"I didn't know. You look so different. I didn't remember..." Arthur rubs his eyes and nose with his free hand and thinks he's strong enough to walk on his own. He's steady enough on his own feet and Merlin lets him go reluctantly.

"They're alive. All of them. Did Gwaine die? I felt..."

Merlin's face screws up again and Arthur looks away so he doesn't have to see him shed more tears.

"Yes. Yes, Arthur, he died before."

Arthur waits, lets a hallway pass before he asks, "Did you?"

"No."

And Arthur doesn't ask how or why or examine why he feels relieved because, it's sudden too, but he remembers the magic. The dragon, the scouts thrown, the fire, the deep voice booming in some otherworldly tongue as the world faded in and out.

"Your magic?"

"Still here. Can't seem to get rid of it." He smiles sadly and it hurts somehow.

"I meant it," Arthur tries finally as he sees Gwaine at the end of the last hall to the nurses' office, directing the confused woman and pointing excitedly at Arthur when he spots him. "I meant every word."

Merlin nods, takes a shuddering breath and smiles hopefully.

"And get rid of that ridiculous thing on your head. It's hideous. Your stupid neckerchief was better!" But what he really means to say is, I missed you and thank you.

"Ugh, you're still a prat." And he thinks Merlin understands him anyway.

"I don't see a point in changing now," Arthur snorts as he reaches the nurse and she coaxes him into the infirmary for a checkup and a good long sit in front of a heater with Merlin.

**Author's Note:**

> In part for Inkarnadyne, who shares a modern AU Merthur roleplay with me that this story may or may not have loosely been set in. ;) 
> 
> Merry Christmas, darling. <3


End file.
